


Rewrite the Stars

by CalebCrow, Lunari



Series: Rewrite the Stars [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Art by CalebCrow, Dragon!Fareeha, Dragon/Viking Wars, Dragons, F/F, Fantasy, Fluff, Humor, Pharmercy, Viking AU, Viking!Angela, Violence, rocket angel
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-27
Updated: 2018-11-10
Packaged: 2019-04-13 19:08:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14118966
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CalebCrow/pseuds/CalebCrow, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lunari/pseuds/Lunari
Summary: The conflicts have raged for generations. Dragons and Vikings alike felled in battle.Then a young medic with a thirst to prove herself sets change into motion.(aka)A dragon AU with world building and romance.The last chapter will house all artwork for the fic. As we'll add artwork as it applies to the story: spoiler warning.





	1. Prologue

Fareeha cursed, the half choked sound pushed through clenched teeth. Her face pressed against the cool dirt, skin glistening with beads of pain induced sweat and the scattered turquoise scales along the curve of her brow and sharp jaw shone with it. Her hands clenched against the forest floor as another spark of pain shot through her back. She turned her head and pressed a pronged horn into the ground, allowing the pain and pressure against her temple to distract from the fire coursing through her abused body. It didn’t work.

She shouldn’t have shifted.

Her left wing burned from shoulder to spade, a throbbing pain that alerted her to the odd twist that the spar bone made near the tip. She hissed as she tried to flex her wing, the motion hindered by pain and the ropes still wrapped around her now humanoid body. She shouldn’t have shifted to this more fragile form, but the dragon was desperate for freedom and longed for her smaller body, hopeful it’d allow her to crawl from the bindings.

It would have, had it not been for the metal teeth woven into the net that sank further into soft human flesh with every movement.

Another bite of pain speared her and she growled, her tail thumping against dead leaves and twigs. She curled up as best she could, movements weak as she searched for a position that relieved any of the burning hot agony coursing through her trembling body. Each shift, no matter how miniscule, caused the teeth to sink deeper and another rivulet of blood to dribble down her tortured body. The pool of crimson beneath her grew as her strength left her.

She’d been flying too fast, too high, too intent on pushing Hana to her limits. How the viking had even landed the net was a mystery.

Bleary golden eyes cracked open and blinked away the drying blood as the dragon gazed to the sky: her home and freedom. Her wings twitched and she whimpered, eyes squeezing shut once more.

Only her fear of never waking up kept her awake and focused on the pain. A grounded dragon was a dead dragon. The elders weren’t wrong about _that_ in the slightest. 

**: :**

“Ow!” 

A hiss of pain followed the exclamation as Angela swiped her hand over the cotton of her pants in reflex. She grumbled as she examined the angry red welt that striped her hand as a result of the whipping branches. She shook out the limb, willing the mark to fade like the rest. Her mood darkened with every added bruise stamped onto pale skin. _A medic shouldn’t be so deep in the forest alone!_ She could practically hear her mentor’s screech. _You’ll just get hurt._  

 _Yes, well I’d be able to patch myself up, now wouldn’t I?_ She snarkily thought.

Angela dug her toe under a fallen branch, keen blue eyes examining the break for a sign of how long since its fall. She was certain she’d brought down one of the dragons she’d seen flying about. Even if it was the small pink and green, it would mean everything to her. The villagers would stop seeing her as the pretty faced medic with a soft heart that lacked the bloodthirst and experience the average viking earned through daily battles against the reptilian race. It was a never ending war, filled with casualties, pain and hatred. No one knew the reason for the attacks, only that the dragons were a feared enemy that were nigh impossible to defeat.

Her fist clenched at her side, the action stretching the bruised skin painfully. Both of her parents lost to their fire. Her family turned to ash and possessions snatched by claws. Her entire life shattered in less than an hour. 

With a renewed vigor she stomped forward, eyes searching the tree tops and forest floor for signs of her quarry. As thick forest gave way to broken branches and uprooted bushes, she knew she was getting close. Angela’s heart leapt into her throat, footsteps growing cautious as she followed the trail. It led her down a small ravine, feet sliding over loose pebbles and twigs and quite a few times she had to throw her arms out to keep balance. 

Her heart froze in her chest at the first sight of wings. She’d assumed she’d brought down a dragon, but seeing it this close was chilling, though oddly mesmerizing.

Massive yet gorgeous, the wings were a blanket of blue and green, glistening with a pearly sheen beneath an angry knotting of rope. They were twisted cruelly and lay limp against the blood soaked dirt. The same blood caked over the brilliant turquoise scaling, ropes and the iron spikes embedded in its back.

 _Gods,_ Angela realized with a shock. _No._ Her _back. That was a_ person.

 Her pace increased, feet sliding down the rest of the slope as shock overwhelmed her need to be stealthy. She dropped to her knees at the woman’s side, hands hovering briefly over bloodied skin. The woman shuddered as Angela pressed against her ribs to check for damage to her lungs. The blonde was shocked at the cold and clammy skin despite its sunkissed look. Angela leaned back to take in the full scope of the damage, stomach twisting with remorse. _Are dragons able to take on human forms?_ She wondered as her eyes tracked the tears in the wings’ delicate webbing. _Is she some dragon-human hybrid? Offspring?_ She rocked forward once more, a wordless stammer forcing itself from her throat as her hands traced over the ropes, buying time as she debated on helping. It went against everything drilled into her head from birth.

But the human with dragon appendages also went against it all.

What was she to do when her heart cried to help the suffering woman but her instinct screamed to slay the beast as she’d set out to do.

She reached down, fingers catching up black locks to sweep them to the side. The heavy lidded, yet still bright, golden eye locked on the blonde and she nearly squealed, dropping the hair as she fell back to land on her rear.

“Just do it already.”

The raspy command was unexpected. The dragon woman shuddered as she pulled herself against the ground, turning her head with a bitten whimper of agony, glowing eye peeking between blood matted clumps of hair. “If you’re going to kill me,” she growled, fists clenching against the dirt as she trembled in pain as her wings gave a few involuntary twitches. “Get it over with, don’t mock me with your fake sympathy.”

The dragon’s eye fell closed and her body lay limp as if resigned to the call of death at Angela’s hand. There were worse ways to die, she reasoned. This way it was at least protecting Hana, guarding someone one last time.

Her eyes shot open as the ropes began to loosen.

A bead of sweat dripped down the viking’s temple and caught the sun, the brilliant sparkle distracting to the weak and dying dragon. The blonde swiped at it with the back of her wrist before resuming her work, bringing the dragon’s attention to the woman’s hands as she worked the blade through the ropes.

“Come on,” The woman said as she cut away the last of the bindings, careful to cut around the embedded teeth, deeming it safest to leave them for the time being. “We have to get you cleaned up if you want to live, you’ve lost a lot of blood.” The dragon didn’t move, be it from lack of strength or her own doubts and cautious fear, even as the stranger hesitantly placed a gentle hand on her own. “Please, you need to get up and out of sight.” The blonde begged, blue eyes pleading.

Once the dragon was willing, it took a bit longer than Angela anticipated to help drag the nearly lifeless woman to a small canopy of low hanging branches. Between the broken wing and the puncture wounds, leaning her against a tree trunk was impossible, so Angela merely directed her to lay on her front. The dragon curled up on the cold ground, lamenting the loss of the body heat soaked dirt she was moved from.

With a soft curse, Angela tugged her travel cloak from her shoulders and draped it over the bruised woman’s body, careful of the barbs still biting into rapidly paling skin. She all but tore her pack from her waist, hands quickly fishing out the needed supplies. She had been taught on her first day of apprenticeship that a medic without tools was worthless and since, she’d been prepared for anything. 

Except, apparently, a dying dragon. 

She placed her fingers on the blood soaked skin next to a barb planted in the woman’s left flank, pressing gently to judge internal damage. The barbs were not unlike fishing hooks, meant to worsen as the prey struggled. This was not the first time Angela cursed the brutality of her people. 

The dragon quietly whimpered at the touch and any sluggish movements she tried to make didn’t register in her limbs. Angela bit her lip, fingers worrying over a small scalpel she kept in her kit bag. Her eyes traced over the cut ropes still laying in the dragon-made clearing, a beam of sunlight illuminating them as if the gods were speaking. _You did this._ They seemed to say. Her gaze hardened and she turned back to the dragon. _I did this_. _I’ll_ fix _this._

She folded the strap of her pack in a flash, nudging the woman’s jaw open to place the doubled over leather between her teeth, heart leaping as the extended canine caught the light. “This will hurt and I’m sorry, but it needs to be done. I have a tincture for pain as soon as I’m finished.” That was the only warning the woman received before the sharp bite of a surgeon’s blade joined the already mind numbing pain.

It seemed like hours had passed by the time the last barb fell to the ground with a dull _tink_. Deft hands cleaned the wound, smeared it with ointment and stitched it nearly closed, leaving room for the wound to weep. She tipped a bit of water from her canteen onto the corner of her cloak to clean up the bloodied skin, careful to avoid the broken wing tip as she moved.

Once the stranger was clean, Angela dropped the now bloody corner of her cloak, eyeing it with a bit of disdain. She’d be able to explain away the stains as a result of her hunt or a patient, though the thought of lying to her fellow people nearly outweighed the guilt of harming this creature. 

 _This dragon_. She reminded herself, blue eyes slanting to glare at the prone form from the corner of her eyes. _The dragon that has done nothing to threaten you, not that she could._

She sighed, a deep and heavy sound, before she rolled her shoulders. Threats or not, _she_ had caused this mess and it was up to her to fix it. Should the dragon decide to eat her after, well, that was up to her. 

Angela made her way into the clearing in search of sturdy branches, taking advantage of the dragon’s fall and the plethora of downed trees. Once she’d taken her pick, she returned to the dragon’s side and dropped her bundle of splints. Her hands ghosted over the broken bone, unsure of how to set it correctly.

She’d snapped a fair number of bones back to alignment in her time as a medic, but the foreign nature of the limb gave her pause. “Okay,” she breathed. “This is just like a bird’s… right?” She laid her hands against the hard muscle wrapped bone with a determined furrow to her brow. “How bad can it be?”


	2. Chapter One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're proud to present the official first chapter of Rewrite the Stars! We'll be maintaining an actual update schedule, so expect new chapters once a month (this is to keep us from super stressing and able to produce quality content) Artwork however might be peppered in as it's completed, so keep an eye out <3

“Those are bad.”

The sudden break in the silence of the small cave nearly tore a squeak from Angela’s throat. Her head snapped up to see the dragon rolling to her side with a grimace, the first movement she’d seen since transferring her to the more permanent shelter they were currently housed in. The words finally registered and blue eyes flicked to the fish roasting over the fire. “...W-what? This?” She gestured to the food on the spit. The sky beast paused, eyes locked on the offending fish, before nodding once.

It was hardly what one would call a conversation, but it was more than she’d received over the past three days during her care for the creature. Usually the dragon kept to grunts and grumbles and this was the first time the other had attempted to initiate any sort of communication.

“It does not look fresh.” The dragon pulled herself a bit closer, leaning toward the fire with a sniff, pointedly ignoring the way the blonde tensed at her movement. “Doesn’t smell fresh, either. Do humans not prefer healthy meals?”

“I- well, yes but-”   
  
“Then throw it out.” The curt command was punctuated by the dragon stabbing the stick into the ground, leaving the speared fish to wave teasingly. “Ingesting this would cause sickness. Surely you know that,  _ healer _ ?”

Angela’s eyes narrowed slightly as she watched the fish sway on its new perch but refused to let the way the title had rolled off the dragon’s tongue bother her. “I thought dragons ate anything?”

“We do.” Angela swore the dragon’s chest puffed up slightly. “You however, have a human stomach. Not one built for scavenging.”

This time, the insult woven into the dragon’s voice was unmistakable. Angela took a breath to retort but bit off her words, choosing only to sigh with a slight nod, accepting the attitude as a small punishment for the dragon’s current plight.

The crackling fire became deafening in the silence, glowing golden eyes glaring at Angela across the darkened cave. Wordlessly the blonde turned and began to dig through her pack, withdrawing a linen wrapped package. It was placed on the ground between them and quickly untied to reveal dried strips of meat. With a silent tip of her head toward the food, Angela offered up the meager portion to the dragon.

The sky beast merely scoffed at the blonde before snatching up the cooked fish with a bandaged hand, biting into it fiercely, eyes locked on the blonde in a challenging manner. Blue eyes darted away, focusing on the flask of water held between trembling pale hands. The adrenaline coursing through her limbs receded as the dragon slumped away, the stick tossed into the fire. With a determined grit to her teeth and a forced calming of her hand, Angela held the drink out to the dragon, eyes still locked on her own lap.

Her arm was just beginning to tire when the other spoke. “Why are you, a fae of a viking, helping me?”

The silence stretched out once more as Angela struggled to find the answer. “...I, uh-” She fiddled with the hem of her shirt, worrying the coarse fabric between her fingers. “I just…. Had to. You don’t just see someone grounded and hurt,” She locked eyes with the dragon. “Hurt to your extent, and just leave them be! That’s-”   
  
“-what you’ve been doing for centuries.” Fareeha interrupted, a dark emotion twisting her features, masking the grimace of pain as she pushed herself to sit. “Shooting us down from the sky, crippling our companions, hurting our young and orphaning them?” The dragon leaned closer, pulling herself nearly nose to nose with the viking, molten gold eyes boring into watery blue. Wisps of smoke joined her next words. “So tell me  _ healer _ , why are you helping me when your kind know nothing but brutish and hellish violence? Don’t-” She growled when Angela opened her mouth to retort, the word a sharp crack in the quiet cave. “-lie to me!  _ You _ were the one who shot me down; I am not blind.” 

The dragon reached past Angela and snatched up her small knife, still glistening with fish scales from their meal. The blonde winced and drew back, curling in on herself in fear. The knife was passed to her, hilt first, with a rough hand. 

“So just do what you set out to do and finish me off. That’s all you humans are good for,  _ isn’t it _ ?”

Angela gripped the knife out of reflex, gulping down air as she fought off tears.  _ It’s not! _ She wanted to scream,  _ we’re-  _ I’m  _ good for so much more!  _ Her hand clenched around the hilt, trembling lips forming silent words.

Before her, the dragon fell back onto her haunches, visibly tired from her outburst but the challenging glare never left her face.

Tear filled eyes dropped to the knife clutched in shaking hands as emotion clawed at Angela’s throat, burning her chest with fear induced adrenaline and the sour taste of regret. Within seconds she was stood and out of the cave, nearly sprinting to the nearby river.

With a mighty heave and a pained cry, she threw the dagger into the rushing water and with it, everything the weapon stood for. She sank to the shore and finally let the tears fall. She was  _ wrong _ . The dragon was wrong and she knew nothing of Angela and her struggles. She didn’t know what she sacrificed, what she lived through. She didn’t know the screams of burning wood as rafters fell on injured and smoke weary. 

The blonde tucked her knees to her chest and buried her face against her pants, sobbing as she let the past few days finally sink in. She mourned not only for the injury and near torture she brought upon the dragon, but her inability to end her suffering, to claim the kill, to uphold her people’s traditions. Traditions instilled in her by the people that had raised her but were frowned upon by her lost parents, murdered,  _ slaughtered _ , by dragons just like the one she had the chance to kill.

She cried for her failure to avenge her family.

“I’m sorry.”

Her back stiffened but she made no other indication that she noticed the dragon now leaning weakly against a tree behind her.

“I owe you my life.” The dragon said quietly before scoffing. “Even though you were the one to risk it in the first place.” She added, letting the smirk she wore color her words. “You did not have to heal me, feed me and offer me shelter. For that alone, you deserve more than anger as your repayment.” Leaves and twigs crunched as the dragon sank to the ground, body weak. “I apologize for my words spoken from hatred. You have had every chance to end my life and yet you’ve saved it.” A sigh. “Thank you.”

Silence fell between them broken only by the gurgling river and Angela’s quiet sniffles. The dragon sighed once more, eyes locked on the hunched blonde’s back. With a resigned twist of her lips, the dragon began to stand.

“Angela.” The simple utterance was quiet and muffled against the blonde’s knees.

The dragon froze. “What?”   


“My name is Angela.” She said as she lifted her head. “So you can stop calling me ‘viking’ or ‘human’ or ‘healer.’” A rough swipe of a wrist cleared the tears from her cheeks. “You’re right, such an outburst was poor gratitude for your care.” She stood and turned, facing the dragon with a determined look on her face. “But you are also right that it was my fault for you being in such a state.” She sniffed one last time. “I am sorry as well.”

The two remained frozen for a moment more before Angela finally stepped forward and extended a hand to the dragon. Gold eyes narrowed at the offered hand before dark fingers wrapped around a pale wrist and she was being tugged to her feet. Angela’s other hand snapped to the dragon’s elbow to keep her steady when the other began to sway. 

“So tell me,  _ dragon _ .” She said, looking up to meet bright gold. “What shall I call you? Or is it to be dragon from now on?”

A quirk twisted the corner of the dragon’s mouth. 

“Fareeha.”

 

: :

 

When Angela returned to the cave the next day, Fareeha was already crouched next to a pile of fresh logs, fire crackling away. The blonde gave the dragon a cautious smile before dropping her pack, a small blush rising to her cheeks as the bag made an offensive  _ squelch _ .    
  
“I hope you aren’t tired of fish.” She explained quickly, a wooden pail of water joining her pack on the ground. “I promise they’re fresh this time.” She added with a smirk when Fareeha gave a cautious sniff.

The dragon scoffed and narrowed her eyes. “Do you blame me?” She sneered. Angela merely laughed as she sat and began cleaning the fish with a small blade that was barely more than a thin strip of metal. “What happened to your other knife? Surely it’d be easier to use than that?” 

Angela paused her motions, eyes darting toward the river. “...I lost it.” She leaned over to dip the freshly scaled fish into the pail of water before dropping it into Fareeha’s waiting and eager palm with a questioning look at the dragon’s grabby hands.

With a quick motion, Fareeha split the fish open with the flick of a wing-claw and proceeded to finish cleaning the fish. She gave the blonde a cocky grin. Angela simply rolled her eyes before quietly working through the rest of their meal preparation in a similar fashion.

Once the fish were crackling away on the fire, the two cleaned up their mess before relaxing against the cave walls. Fareeha wiped her still damp hands against the rough linen pants Angela had smuggled for her before speaking. “You’ll need to replace your blade soon, healer.”

Angela glared. “We’ve discussed this.”   
  
The dragon’s tail flicked in thought, the midnight plume of fur that decorated the tip dancing in the firelight, a cheeky grin on her face. “But is that not your title?”

Angela relaxed against her perch. “We call ourselves medics, but I’m a healer, yes.”

“How do others know what you are if it’s not what you’re called?”

Angela’s brows furrowed slightly at the odd question. “People just know.” She said with a shrug. “Our village isn’t big, you know. Anyone that does their job well enough is pretty recognizable.”

“I see.” Fareeha’s nose scrunched in thought. “How inconvenient.” Golden eyes darted to Angela as she squeaked in indignation. “We dragons are great in number so relying on word of mouth to educate our covens on who our healers or warriors are is… archaic.”

Angela leaned forward, her interest peaked. “So how do you know?”   
  
Dark fingers raised to play with the feathers and beads braided into her hair. “We use different ornaments to alert those around us to our specialty. Healers, for instance, use beads.”

Angela’s gaze flicked to the golden beads wrapped around Fareeha’s braids. “You are a healer too?”

“These? No they’re…” She trailed off, mind and gaze wandering for a moment. “They’re purely aesthetic. My ornaments are the feathers.” Slender fingers reached up to stroke along the vane of one of the blue jay feathers. “They mark my skill in flight. Scouts and fliers like myself use feathers, healers wear beads and our warriors use teeth.”

Angela winced at the thought, her lip bulging as she rolled her tongue over her own teeth. “Where do you get the teeth from?” 

“From our fallen enemies.” Fareeha stated simply.

The image of a clawed foot crashing through her neighbor’s chest flooded her mind, her fingers twisting in her lap. “Ours must be small compared to yours.”

Fareeha hummed in agreement until the blonde’s comment, and the meaning behind it, registered. Gold eyes flicked to Angela. “We don’t take them from you. That’s…” She trailed off, only to be answered by a furrowed brow and frown from the medic. Fareeha sighed. “They’re from other dragons.”

The answer seemed to shock Angela, her brows raising and lips pursing in thought. “Why would you be fighting other dragons?”  _ Are they really so bloodthirsty that they fight their ow- _

Fareeha interrupted Angela’s thoughts with a quiet growl, hand clenching against the dirt. “Not all of us have the same view on how we should deal with your kind.”

The response raised more questions than it answered, but Angela simply responded with a quiet “Oh” as she reached for a cooked fish.

 

: :

 

Angela threw bandages into her pack frantically, eyes darting over the other supplies neatly stocked on the shelves as she replenished her personal medical kit. She’d used more supplies in the past fortnight on her new companion than in the past year to patch up the trainees. She tossed a glance over her shoulder and a word of thanks to whatever listening deity that the infirmary was blessedly empty. She’d been avoiding her mentor and her too-observant mismatched gaze since she began her care of Fareeha. Moira was constantly suspicious, with or without Angela’s fidgety inability to hide a secret. With a nod to herself, confident that she’d gathered everything she needed, she turned to leave.

A squeal nearly escaped as she spotted the figure at the door. She quickly shifted her expression from one of shock and guilt to a saccharine smile as she nonchalantly moved her now bulging pack behind her back.

Moira stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a nail tapping meticulously on her forearm. “What are you doing with those supplies, Angela?”

Pale fingers picked at the cloth of her pack. “Oh um… You know. Genji. The boys.” She pointedly kept her eyes locked on her mentor’s face, refusing to let them dart about as she weaved her lie. “They fool around during training, you know and they got scuffed up, so…”   
  
Moira’s eyes narrowed as her head tilted, scrutinising gaze burning into Angela. After a moment, she spoke. “You’ve been neglecting your studies.” Angela looked at her feet, the toe of her boot scuffing into the rough stone floor. “You failed to show up yesterday and even Markus had no clue as to where you were.”

Angela ducked her head, an expression of guilt scrawled over her sheepish grimace. “I was distracted.”

“That’s no excuse.” The response was quick and biting.

Angela winced. “I know.”

The elder woman stood stoically even as Angela began edging her way slowly around her and toward the door. “I expect you to be here tomorrow. No distractions this time. Your  _ father _ would hate to learn about your slacking.”

“I-” Mismatched eyes narrowed. “Yes. Of course.” The blonde agreed begrudgingly before darting around her and out of the room.

She nearly sprinted past the training grounds in her haste, but a flash of a bright green headband stopped her. Stood among the other young boys of the village was Genji, talking the newest trainees through his motions as he demonstrated sword strikes against a wooden dummy. She chewed her lip before heading toward him.

“Genji!” 

He stilled, wooden blade frozen mid air when she called his name. “Angela?” He turned with a look of confusion. “What’s-”   
  
“If Moira asks, can you say I was here with you the past few days, patching you up after some trainees got the better of you?”

His dark eyes narrowed and his smile became fixed. “Angela, that’s so unlikely of an alibi.” His pasted on smile faltered when Angela’s hopeful look became distraught. “Fine, fine. I’ll take the hit to my pride, but you owe me.”

“Yes, of course, thank you!” She said, dragging the man into a hug before darting off, leaving nothing but a strained laugh and a confused man behind.


	3. Chapter Two

“Let’s see how you’re doing.”

Angela began pulling at the ties that held together Fareeha’s tunic, years of medical training keeping the blush from her face. Fareeha had no such training and with a fierce blush, dark hands joined pale.

“I can handle the undressing, thank you.”   
  
Angela scoffed and continued her work, ignoring the hand attempting to push hers out of the way. “You do remember that you’re covered in bandages right? They’ll keep your modesty. Plus, I’m not sure how you think I got you to this point of healing without seeing you already.”   
  
It didn’t seem possible, but Fareeha blushed further. “Yes, but I was a bit out of it at the time.”

With meticulous care, Angela began to unwrap the bandages that wound around Fareeha’s form. “Would you like me to distract you?” 

The dragon merely scoffed.

“It’s better than the alternative.” Angela mused as she pulled the last of the wrappings free.

Fareeha’s eyes were locked on the cave ceiling, trying adamantly to avoid Angela’s gaze even as she had to awkwardly hold her arm above her head to make room for the medic. “And what would that be?”

“Repeating the first encounter. Knocking you out.” She replied with a smile. “I’d much rather us just talk, however.” She said distractedly as she picked at the corner of a bit of gauze on the dragon’s flank until it began to pull free, using her other hand to run a damp cloth along the adhesive to help it seperate.

Fareeha hummed in agreement. “What would you like to talk about?”

“Were you hatched?” The words were out before Angela thought them through and they seemed to echo in the cave. She squeaked out an apology before continuing in a ramble. “I only mean that lizards are hatched and so are birds…”   
  
“I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, Angela,” Fareeha gave her a playful nudge with her healthy wing. “But I’m neither of those.”

Angela only blushed as she inspected the cut beneath the bandage. It had scabbed nicely and was closing well, though she could still see a difference between the jagged tears from the teeth and her surgical cuts. 

“To answer your question,” Fareeha began as Angela moved to kneel behind her, fingers pressing over healing skin. “I was born in the same fashion as you humans. There are others, however, that are hatched.”

Angela made a small noise in the back of her throat, wordlessly asking for clarification as she smeared a bit more healing cream over the nastier cuts on her back. 

“It depends on the species,” Fareeha went on to explain. “My species is birthed. Most species are, actually. There are only a few that are hatched, but the most common of those are feathered dragons.”   
  
Pale hands stilled as Angela scoured her memory for any recollection of a feathered dragon among the raids. Coming up blank, she responded, “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen one.”   
  
Fareeha nodded slowly. “I’m sure you haven’t. They’re very rare; females even more so. They live in small covens to the north. Even though their clutches are larger, they’re lucky to lay more than two or three times in their life.”

“Are…” Angela began, unsure how to word her next question delicately. “The population…”

“They’re not dying out, if that’s what you’re asking.” Fareeha answered with a small chuckle. “They’re able to maintain their numbers, even with the odds set against them. You just see way more of us because we can… breed faster.”    
  
Suddenly, the reality of the situation dropped around them like a heated blanket. Fareeha blushed once more as she tried not to think of Angela’s hands on her very bare back as she spoke of breeding and the propagation of a species.

Angela shifted her focus to unwrapping the splint from her wing to distract herself from the awkward atmosphere. She pulled away the splint and ran her hand over the dense muscle, pleased as she felt no abnormal ridges or swelling. At Angela’s relieved sigh, Fareeha stretched the limb, flaring it out until the tip began to brush the wall of the small cave and the motion nearly bumped the medic off her knees.

Angela laughed and gave a small pat to the joint of her wing, letting her fingers linger on the warm, scaled flesh. “No sudden moves, Sparky.” 

Fareeha scoffed and turned her head, a wide smile showing off her sharp canine and the embers flashing over her tongue. “I’ll show you ‘Sparky.’” She quipped.

Angela merely tutted, giving the dragon’s shoulder a playful push. A fortnight prior and the display would have sent the blonde medic sprinting from the cave in fear, but now she was able to notice the sparkle in her golden eyes and the miniscule quirk of Fareeha’s lips.

“Really, no sudden moves. I’m sure dragons heal at a different pace to humans, but you’ve only been braced for half the time our bones take. I’d rather be cautious.” 

Fareeha nodded and slowly brought both wings to half their full span, shifting her weight from side to side, one wing curling up as the other extended fully. The joy was evident on her face as she was finally able to stretch out the cramped wing.

Angela stepped back to watch the display and the rolling muscles of Fareeha’s back as her wings worked. She told herself it was purely for her medical examination, but her eyes tracked over the bronze skin a bit longer than was necessary. She bit her lip before sighing. “Let’s get you outside so you can stretch them fully.” She offered, already turning to the mouth of the cave, eager to hide the pink on her cheeks.

Fareeha followed her out, clutching her tunic to her chest to keep her modesty. She spread her wings and sighed in happy relief as the sun warmed the scales and cramped muscles. Angela stood in awe as she was finally able to take in the full scope of the wings. While cutting the dragon free from the ropes and then patching her up, she’d never seen the wings in their full glory. The scales on the limbs glittered in the sun as if wet, catching the light in flashes of green and blue. The added bonus of having her wings spread was Angela’s ability to judge the injured wing against the healthy one, to easily pinpoint what was off and what wasn’t. The boning of the wing seemed to be healing well, but her mouth twisted into a grimace as she looked at the greyish patches in the delicate membrane stretching between.

Angela stepped forward, hand sliding over the smooth scales of the spar bone and thumbing the scales that were somewhat raised over the injury. Her hand then slid over the rubbery sail, fingertips caressing the grey patches where her wing had been torn. Fareeha shuddered and Angela’s hand snapped away. “Sorry!” The blonde nearly chirped in surprise.

“No, it’s fine,” Came the awkward reply. “It’s just… sensitive.” Fareeha finished lamely.

Silence stretched between them as Fareeha’s words registered; the quiet broken only by an occasional bird call or the wind rustling the leaves overhead. As the medic realized that the shiver and awkward dragon meant she was either pained or pleased, she took a sharp breath and began gathering her supplies. “Well, I think it’s good!” She spoke, the words quick and nearly an octave higher than her usual register. “Can you fold your wing? I need to reset the splint.”   
  
Fareeha twitched and her head dipped slightly. “Do I have to?”

Angela smiled, amused at the near whine that came out of the dragon. “Yes, you’re not completely healed and it needs to heal fully and properly if you ever wish to fly again.” Her tone left no room for argument.

The dragon muttered a complaint about the medic’s use of bribery before she spoke aloud. “At least let me bathe before you do? I smell like cod.”

Angela’s lips pursed in thought, eyes narrowed as she tried to decipher any hidden meaning in the dragon’s words. “Fine,” She acquiesced. “But no funny business. No flying, no strain at all on that wing, do you hear me?”

Fareeha grumbled her agreement as she nearly stomped away, her wings tucked against her back to allow her to slip through the trees.

With a quiet laugh at the dragon’s antics, Angela turned to clean up her supplies. Her mind wandered as she rolled up the used wrapping, lip caught between her teeth as she mused over the past few weeks with Fareeha. Her attitude had completely changed since their moment at the river. While things weren’t completely comfortable between them, they’d reached an understanding and had begun building a tentative friendship. Angela sighed and brushed her bangs back, eyes darting out to the lush green trees beyond the cave entrance. 

_ The problem _ , she mused as she watched the dappled sunlight play over the swaying grass,  _ is calling it friendship. _ Her fingers twisted together in her lap.  _ Surely my fascination with her is because of the unknown, the excitement of new and amazing things. _ She sighed.  _ Right? _

A branch snapped in the distance, drawing her startled eyes to the sound. She froze, even holding her breath as she scanned the tree line for movement. There would be no reason for her to be followed, not unless Genji had decided her behavior was becoming alarmingly suspicious. Her hand slowly moved to her medical pack, quietly digging through the interior for the leather wrapped scalpel. It wasn’t the best weapon, but it would do should the intruder be an enemy.

_ Unless it was a dragon. _

The thought wormed into her mind and grew into a frightful mantra, conjuring images of dragon attacks on her village, bones charred to ash and homes left in ruins. Her breath quickened as her eyes darted along the trees frantically.  _ Where was Fareeha? _

Another rustle in the leaves and a spark of sunlight had Angela freezing in fear. Her hand tightened around the handle of her scalpel as she moved into a crouch, ready to launch herself from the cave and to freedom if need be.

That’s when she heard it. 

A deep gurgling growl pierced the silence. She could feel the vibrations in her chest and her eyes darted to the treetops as birds scattered. Was it a bear? A wolf? The growl petered out before picking up once more, this time accompanied with the snap of embers.

Her blood ran cold; her chest heaved. She leaned forward in her crouch, preparing to run.

“You should see your face!” The jovial words were at odds with the terror Angela was feeling. Then, like a water serpent, the blue and green dappled dragon slithered from the trees. A molten gold eye sparkled with laughter as the dragon eyed Angela sideways, the dark swirl of Fareeha’s tattoo visible on the glittering scales. 

“That was highly unnecessary.” The medic groused as she dropped her weapon, shaking out her hand to ease the tensed muscles. She stood on wobbly legs and slowly made her way out of the cave, closer to the giant beast nearly blocking the entire entrance.

Blue eyes traced over the massive form. Her attention first moved to the once broken wing and frowned at the dark patches that marred the otherwise unblemished sail. As Angela moved closer, she had to tip her head up to properly see further up. Once she was stood beside the dragon, she realized she only came up to Fareeha’s shoulder even though the dragon stood on four clawed feet.

Under the scrutiny of the blonde, Fareeha puffed up her chest and raised her nose into the air with a hint of pride, her tail lashing out behind her. 

Curious, Angela reached out to trail her fingertips over the larger plate scales running down Fareeha’s neck before ghosting up across the small snake-like scales to her face. Her gaze was intense and focused as she traced over the black scales beneath Fareeha’s eye that echoed the tattoo on her human cheek. 

Blue flicked to molten gold and Angela breathed out an embarrassed laugh before shifting her attention to the ground. “Sorry, I’ve never seen a dragon so close and you’re mesmerizing.” 

If possible, Fareeha puffed up even more, her jaw dropping slightly and lips curling in a mimic of a smirk. “Mesmerizing… Can’t say I’ve been called that before.”

Angela glanced up, an expression of shock on her features. She hadn’t seen the dragon’s mouth move. “How are you talking?” She moved around the dragon’s neck, eyes scrutinizing the plated scales as if looking for the answer to her question.  
  
Fareeha scoffed and a small bit of smoke escaped with it. “Blunt as always.” She shrugged. “Dragon magic. Our mouths aren’t built for the intricate sounds you humans use to communicate.” Her chest puffed even more, wings flaring upwards in a show of pride. 

Angela’s trained eyes locked on the massive wings and their mottled discoloration from the still-healing flesh. She was so intent in her observation, she jumped when Fareeha’s voice echoed around her.

“Besides, if I spoke as humans do,” Fareeha began as she dipped her head toward the ground. “I wouldn’t be able to carry as much.” Before Angela could question the dragon, her massive maw opened to drop a pile of fresh fish to the ground.

Angela jerked away from the fish in surprise and Fareeha’s laughter shifted from ethereal echo to the voice the medic was more accustomed with. By the time Angela turned back to the dragon, Fareeha was tying the sash on her tunic with a lopsided grin.

“Well? Are you just going to stand there, Angela?” Without waiting on a response, Fareeha dropped into a comfortable squat next to the fish, her tail curling behind her for balance, and began cleaning her catch.

The rest of their dinner preparation passed in the companionable silence the two had grown to appreciate. Soon the pile was gone. Angela had just finished her single fish when Fareeha rocked back on her tail and one hand, the other patting her stomach contentedly. It was the first filling meal she’d had since her injury. While the dragon was appreciative of Angela sneaking and catching what food she could, and though her humanoid body used less energy than if she remained a dragon, she still was able to eat the rest of the fish on her own. 

Once their meal was finished, the two moved to the riverbank to clean up. Fareeha stood from the water’s edge as she swiped her wet hands over her pants to dry them. A rustle at her side drew her attention, and with a smile she watched as Angela tugged off her boots and sat on a log at the water’s side.    
  
With a happy sigh of relief, Angela sank her bare feet into the water. She spread her toes in the water, giving her feet a playful kick as she stretched out her ankles. Fareeha smiled softly as she watched the blonde, eventually snapping from her reverie and turning to scour the riverbank for flat stones. She’d just found the perfect skipping stone when Angela spoke.

“Can all dragons shift like you?”

Fareeha didn’t respond immediately, gold eyes scrutinizing a second stone before adding it to the first in her other palm. “Yes. We just don’t do it much outside of our covens. Some prefer to remain dragons, others would rather stay more human looking, but yes, we all have the ability.” She added a third and fourth stone. “Sometimes situations call for different forms. If I were to fly back to the coven, I wouldn’t do it in this form, my wings are smaller and weaker and not built for travel in this state.” A fifth stone was added and she stepped closer to the water.

Angela’s gleeful kicking slowed as she became lost in thought. “But what about your tail and wings? Your horns?”

Fareeha turned to the side as she skipped her first stone, her hand whipping forward to send the rock speeding across the water. “Well, not all dragons have wings, some don’t have tails or horns, but those features can’t be hidden by the dragons that have them. There’s no ‘human’ equivalent for them to adopt. So we can’t fully look human.”

Pale fingers twisted a twig. “So if you can  _ disguise _ those features, what stops dragons from ‘becoming’ human? Hiding among actual humans?”

A grin twisted Fareeha’s lips, skip went another stone. “Nothing.”


	4. Chapter Three

Angela nearly crept through the village entrance, eyes suspiciously tracing every passerby as she neared them. She checked for strange bulges under their hats and headscarves, did a double take at the slightly humped back of an elderly woman. She scrutinized hairlines looking for similar glittering scales like Fareeha’s.

_Nothing._

The word kept echoing through her mind, it’s two syllables twisted by the sly smirk Fareeha wore. Nothing kept a dragon from living among her people. Were they hiding from the dragon politics Fareeha had angrily mentioned? Were they merely curious about humans, such as she was about her new winged friend.

Were they spies?  
  
Her eyes narrowed as she slipped between two buildings, a chill running down her spine as if every villager was out to get her.

A hand closed around her wrist and she nearly screamed.

The redhead skipped back, both hands raised and a huge grin on her face. “Calm down, it’s just me.”

Angela slumped in relief, letting a small smile creep over her lips as she took in the tall and broad form of Brigitte. The younger girl’s giggling rang through the small alley and the volume only increased as Angela began to scowl. “It’s not that funny…” She groused, arms crossed over her chest.

“You should have seen your face!” Brigitte said as she finally calmed.

“Apparently so.” Angela grumbled as she turned and began walking back toward the town square. “Everyone seems keen on me seeing my face lately.”

A tanned finger poked at her cheek before Brigitte spoke, her words twisted into a mocking tone. “But it’s such a lovely face.” Blue eyes glared. “Even when you’re giving yourself early wrinkles.” Brigitte moved her poking finger to Angela’s brow, smoothing over the ridges.

Angela brushed away Brigitte’s finger with a fluttering hand as she approached a cart hung with dried meats for sale. She ignored the still giggling girl behind her with her nose held high and a huge smile on her face as she handed the saleswoman a small bottle of pain tonic in return for two strips of venison.

“Or maybe not so early.” Brigitte egged, hoping to get a rise out of the blonde. “You’re so much older than me, after all.”

Angela scoffed as she turned back to Brigitte, glaring as she playfully threw a bit of jerky at the younger girl. “By a few months, at most.”

“Honestly,” Brigitte began, her words slightly muffled with a mouthful of dried meat. “You would think with your eons of experience, you’d be nicer.”  
  
Angela rolled her eyes, mouthing ‘eons’ as she shook her head.

“Really, why can’t we have a beautiful sibling relationship like Genji and his brother?”

Silence reigned for a moment before both women began to giggle to themselves, Angela leaning into the redhead’s shoulder in her mirth. The legendary fights between the two brothers were the subject of many a fireside tale and an example of how _not_ to treat family.   
  
“I think we do alright.” Angela said defensively once she’d calmed from her laughter. They fell into a companionable silence, gull calls and the scuff of worn leather over pebbles filling the void.

Brigitte smiled softly to herself. “You _are_ my favorite sister.”

Angela smiled in return, before “I’m your _only_ sister, you troll.”

With a laugh, Brigitte nudged Angela’s shoulder. “And therefore, my favorite.” Her attention was caught by a motion at the docks. “And speaking of favorites, you’ve been missed by someone else who would list you in that category.”

Blue eyes followed the tanned finger as it pointed toward the water. Genji sat on the docks, fiddling with a bit of knotted fishing line.

“He’s been asking about you lately, you should take a moment to catch up with him.” Brigitte explained before popping the last bit of venison in her mouth. Around the bite, she spoke, “He’s been missing his fishing buddy.”

Angela smiled and gave the girl a hug. “I’ll see you tonight at dinner.”  
  
“You’re actually going to show up for once?” Brigitte quipped as the blonde pulled away.   
  
“Very funny.” Angela said with a playful scowl. “I promise I’ll be there. You can even tell Papa."  
                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                
Brigitte gasped with an overly exaggerated expression of shock. “You realize that the whole town would know if I told Tattletale Torbjörn.”

Angela turned toward the docks with a laugh, her hand tossed up in farewell. “I suppose that’s up to you. See you tonight.”

 

: :

 

Angela eased herself onto the dock with an exaggerated groan, earning a sideways glance from the man still fighting against knotted line. She plucked the mess from his hands and gave it a long look, eyes tracing along the strands before beginning to unravel it bit by bit.  
  
“I’ve been told I’m starting to show signs of my old age, so I thought I’d start acting it.” She said, explaining her earlier display, eyes never leaving the fishing line as she picked it apart with a fingernail.

Genji chuckled and leaned to the side to pick up his rod, testing the line on it before baiting the hook and casting. He teased the line with a thumb and forefinger, enticing the fish to bite. “You look barely a day over fifty.”

Angela moved to smack him on the shoulder but the bandage wrapped around his forearm stopped her. “What’s this? What happened?” She questioned, knot laying forgotten on her thighs as she reached a hand toward his injury.

“Nothing, I just had to act the part of the poor, defenseless trainer that is so bad at his job a _rookie_ got the better of him.” He said the last bit with extra sass as he tried to hide his grin.

Angela used her outstretched hand to give him a playful shove on the shoulder, laughing when he faked a loud gasp of pain. “You can’t say that you don’t owe me at least that one favor.”

He teased the line again. “You’re right. You’ve patched me up enough, I owe you that and more.”

With a grin and a sigh, Angela continued working on the knot, slowly piling the freed line onto the dock beside her. “I still should thank you.” She spoke after a few silent minutes.  
  
“Think nothing of it.” Genji said, jerking the line to hook a fish. “If you really want to make it up to me though,” He started as he began reeling in his catch. “You could try eating a bit better.” He pulled the fish from the water, easing the hook from its lip as Angela stared at him in confusion. “All you’ve been taking from the markets lately is fish. You should know that isn’t healthy.”

Angela blushed and quickly turned back to the dwindling knot in her lap. “Yes, well everyone’s so busy and-”  
  
“And not a single one of us would bat an eye if you asked for some wild game. You know that, Angela.” He dropped the fish into a bucket of water at his side.

“I _do_ know that, but I’ve been off training on my own so I haven’t been contributing as much to the village. It feels wrong to ask for rarities like red meats.” She finished her explanation with a small sigh. “When I finish up my training, I’ll be right back to working here. I’ll eat better then.”

Genji threw out another cast. “And when will that be?”  
  
Angela’s fingers slowed as her eyes lost their focus on the fishing line. “I don’t know… I hope not s- too much longer.” She covered her near slip-up with a small cough.

“Well hurry up.” He encouraged, either not noticing or acknowledging her flub. “We need our brightest medic back.”

She gave him a small smile, though the expression didn’t quite reach her eyes, before turning back to the last remnants of the knot. “I’ll do my best.”

 

: :

 

Angela stepped back into the cave with a small bundle of branches to restock the fire. When she caught sight of the dragon, she stopped in her tracks.

Fareeha sat against the far wall, leaning against her healthy wing as she carved at a stick.

“You had best not be using my scalpel.” Angela said as she dropped the wood by the fire. She knelt and began placing a few twigs into the flame as she cast sidelong glances at the woman.

The dragon gave said blade a wiggle between her fingers with a cheeky grin on her face. “I would have used your dagger but you’ve yet to replace it.” A precise twist of blade against wood and Fareeha continued under her breath. “Despite my constant reminders.”

Angela mimicked her last remark in a juvenile tone that was quickly swallowed by a laugh as Fareeha nudged her off balance with a flick of her tail. “I keep meaning to, I swear.” She replied once she had calmed.

Fareeha held the small piece of wood a bit away from her face, eyes locked on the tiny details. With a nod, she brought it back to her lap and under the knife. “I would rather you replace it before you come to need it.” She blew a bit of wood dust from her creation. “The forest can’t be the safest place.”

Pale fingers fiddled with the hem of her tunic as Angela blushed, heart thudding in her chest at the woman’s veiled comment. “I appreciate your concern, I’ll see about a replacement as soon as I can, okay?”

“Okay.” The dragon agreed before tapping the ground next to her. “Now come here.”  
  
Shocked by the sudden shift in topic, Angela sat frozen for a moment, only spurred to move by another rapid tapping of the dirt floor. She scooted to Fareeha’s side with a look of curiosity.

“This is for you.” Fareeha said, holding out her hand. When Angela opened her palm, Fareeha dropped the wooden bead onto it. “I told you once that our healers wear beads to show their skill. You’ve proven your own so you have every right to wear them.” Their eyes connected over Angela’s open palm before blue nervously flashed down to the intricately carved wooden bead resting in her hand.

“What do the carvings mean?” Angela asked softly, voice quiet and intimate.

Fareeha reached up and turned the bead over in Angela’s palm, her fingertips brushing over pale skin. The shiver that ran up the blonde’s spine went ignored. “It’s the material that matters. The carvings I added because they should-” She paused, cheeks darkening before she swallowed and continued. “I didn’t want you to have a plain bead.”

Their eyes locked once more. “So what does wood stand for?”

Fareeha cleared her throat and sat back a bit. “It means the healer is adept at triage. I know that your skills far surpass simple first aid, but wood is all I have access to here.” She gave the blonde a quick half-smile in apology.

“No! It’s,” Angela began quickly, if only to reassure the dragon. “It’s amazing, the carvings are beautiful Fareeha, thank you.” She held the bead up to look at it more closely, her free hand absently trailing over her hair.

“Would you like me to thread it for you?”

“Oh,” Angela breathed, a blush on her cheeks. “If you don’t mind, you’re more practiced after all.”

Fareeha grinned, plucking the bead from Angela’s fingers and leaning closer. Dark hands smoothed through blonde locks, parting the strands into an appropriate portion. With practiced ease, Fareeha twisted a small section of Angela’s hair into a braid before threading it through the wooden bead. She slid the ornament halfway up the braid and then, with a small carved bit of wood, plugged the hole of the bead. Umber eyes locked on the bead for a moment, enthralled by the contrast of spruce wood and white-gold hair. Her gaze flicked to Angela’s before returning to her work, fingers smoothing down any stray pieces.  
  
“You know,” Fareeha began quietly, hands still busy in silken strands. “If you decide to keep up the fashion, there are other things you can braid into your hair.”

Angela sat frozen, blushing from her cheeks to the tips of her ears as she fought the urge to sigh and lean into the dragon’s ministrations. “Oh?”

The woman hummed in agreement before parting out more hair for another braid, eager for an excuse to keep her attention focused. “Aside from the other beads, which I will do my best to make for you, you can use your braids to claim your mate or mark your rank among the coven.” At Angela’s questioning glance, she continued. “The leader of the coven will have special beads, and any of their chosen successors will have similar ones.”  
  
Angela nodded stiffly. “And for your mate?” She glanced at Fareeha’s braids through her lashes, taking in the blue jay feathers and golden beads.

“Mates take a lock of the other’s hair and braid it with their own.”   
  
Blue eyes flicked to black hair. “That is much more intimate than what we do.” Angela mused, taking the moment to lean back, gently breaking Fareeha’s rapt attention on her hair. “We pretty much just let the town know a couple is, well, a _couple_ and then that’s that.” Fareeha scoffed and Angela continued. “Like I said before, we’re a small village. Everyone knows everyone else.”

The dragon brushed a few stray bits of wood from her leggings with an air of superiority. “Archaic.” She muttered playfully.

 

: :

 

Angela hummed as she worked, tying up the various herbs she’d picked on her way back from tending to Fareeha. As each bundle was finished, she hung them in front of her kitchen window to let them dry. Once her basket was empty, she pulled down the already dried herbs and laid them out on the table, organizing them into clumps for the different compounds she needed to restock the clinic.

She grabbed her mortar and pestle and set to work, letting the muscle memory take over as her mind began to wander.

As she thought of the dragon back in the cave, she couldn’t help but smile. The bead braided into her hair bumped against her cheek and the blush that overtook her face caused her to stop her work to press her hands against the heated flesh.

After a bit of beratement, Angela went back to work. She was just pouring her last mixture into a labeled jar when a knock at the door rang through her small house. She stood and glanced over the room for anything embarrassing left lying about, but her bed was made, clothes neatly folded and her table was clean of dishes from her meager dinner the night before.

She stood and swiped her hands over her tunic to clear them of herb remnants and answered the door.

“Hi, stranger, how’ve you been?” The man stood outside nearly had to stoop to see under the doorframe.

Angela stood at the door, small smile on her lips. “Hi Markus, I’ve been good.”

He smiled through a sigh. “You realize no one in the village has seen hide nor hair of you much these past few weeks. Everything okay?”  
  
Angela gripped the door, lip caught between her teeth as she wracked her brain for a believable excuse. “Oh, I’ve been spending a lot of time in the woods, practicing my herb finding and doing a lot of studying.” She added on a smile, hoping the rehashing of the excuse given to Genji would be enough.

The man’s eyes flicked past her into her small home. “Uh huh, and the increase in fish from the markets? Working up quite the appetite picking herbs, I suppose.”

Blue eyes narrowed and a blunt nail tapped against the rough wood of the door. “If you’re here to interrogate me Markus, you can leave.”

“I’m sorry, Ange.” He apologized, the blonde’s glower at the unwelcome nickname going unnoticed. “I just worry is all. Your father’s been asking about you more lately and I don’t like the look on his face when I have to tell him that I haven’t seen you.”

“You know how overprotective he can be,” She sighed. “I’ll be at dinner tonight though.”

Markus raised a work-scuffed hand to her cheek, calloused thumb brushing over her cheek. “It’ll be good to spend some time with you.”  
  
Angela’s cheeks darkened as she subtly pulled away, masking the motion with a step back into her home. “If you have time, you’re more than welcome to stay and chat.” She offered, gesturing toward the bench seat at her table.

Markus ducked to step inside, giving the blonde a sweet smile before sitting on the bench, dark arm resting on the tabletop.

After closing the door, Angela moved to sit next to him, smiling encouragingly as he began to talk about his day spent hunting and the riveting-only-to-him tale of a hard to track boar. As he waxed poetic about the thrill of the hunt, Angela’s mind began to wander. Blue eyes traced over his forearm, darker than Fareeha’s and lined with scars from battles and failed hunts. Her gaze trailed up to his sharp jaw as he smiled about something, she wasn’t sure exactly. He scratched at the back of his neck and pulled her attention to his hair.

Bone white and scratchy. It wouldn’t look as striking as Fareeha’s if it were woven into her braid.   
  
The thought came unbidden and Angela brought her hand to her braid, fingertips running over the ridges and valleys before stopping on the wooden bead. Her action and the gentle smile on her lips brought Markus to silence.   
  
“What’s that?” He asked simply, hand reaching forward.

“Nothing, it’s just-” Angela began as she swiftly stood and made for the door, eager to hide her embarrassment. “It’s just something I thought looked pretty. I need to finish my tonics before market day, I’ll see you at dinner tonight?” She’d already opened the door and stood beside it, pinning him with an expectant stare.  
  
“Yes, of course.” Markus said lowly, confusion on his face at her abrupt change. He joined her at the door, his hand resting on the small of her back as he kissed her cheek. “I’ll see you then.”

The moment he was gone Angela sank to the floor, her back to the door and her hand clutching the bead.


	5. Chapter Four

As Angela made her way through the trees to Fareeha’s cave, she realized that it was the first time she was more nervous than uneasy. After her visit with Markus, she’d sat in the floor of her home well into the early hours of the morning, crying and feeling sorry for herself. It had been the crowing of the morning roosters that finally shook her from her self-pity and confused thoughts about a certain female dragon and the man to whom she was promised.

She stopped just in viewing distance of the cave’s entrance and took a deep breath. With a quick flick of her hands, she shook out the last of her nerves and stepped into the clearing. As she approached, she heard a soft humming that was randomly interrupted by a sharp hiss. Curiosity outweighed her nervousness as she peeked around the opening of the cave.

Fareeha sat against the stone, holding a tiny bit of metal between her fingers as she blew a thin stream of fire over it, heating it to bright yellow before twisting it with care. The hiss came as she plunged it into the water-filled fish pail. A dark, pointed ear flicked as Angela’s foot scuffed over the stone floor before glowing gold met curious blues.

“Just in time.” Fareeha mused as she pulled the metal from the pail, holding it up to catch the light. Angela moved to sit next to the woman, dropping her pack along the way. “I found a bit of metal on my hunt today.” Angela opened her mouth to speak, eyebrows knit as if she were ready to launch into a lesson on staying hidden, but Fareeha quickly continued. “And I thought it would be perfect to add to your growing collection.”

Angela smoothed a distracted hand over her braid, fingertips bumping against the smooth wood. She watched in nearly a daze as Fareeha went on to explain the meaning behind the metal bead, how it was usually one earned much later in life than the little that Angela had lived, but she had earned it nonetheless.

Angela’s eyes traced over Fareeha’s black locks, the brightly polished gold beads capping the ends of her own braids, the feathers tied in behind them. She searched for any hint of a different color woven among the dark strands. Blue eyes flicked to Fareeha’s face, taking in the gentle smile she wore that hinted at dangerous canines and the crinkle around softly glowing eyes as she proudly explained the process of working the metal.

Unbidden, thoughts of Markus entered her mind and a frown pulled at the corners of her lips. Would he think to create something for her as simple but as thoughtful as a hair bead? Would he be able to provide and protect as well as a _dragon_? Why was she even considering Fareeha as a mate over the man she-

“What’s wrong?” The staggeringly different tone from Fareeha’s excited chatter shocked Angela from her thoughts.

Angela blushed and looked away. “Nothing, my mind wandered for a moment, what were you saying?” Fareeha still seemed unappeased but Angela waved her off with a smile. “Really, please continue.”

Fareeha narrowed her eyes for a moment before slowly returning to her previous rambling, taking the one-sided conversation back a few topics to catch Angela up. As she spoke, Fareeha continued to work the metal, pausing her speech each time the water hissed around the heated bead.

“So there are a few more types that you qualify for that I’d like to get for you, but I’d need to be able to get back to my coven to find the materials, so that’d take time.”

Angela hummed encouragingly as her thoughts began to shift to a darker place. Fareeha would be leaving and Angela would be left to go back to her old life. _After all,_ she thought with another frown, _I did promise Genji that I’d be done with my ‘training’ soon._

“...-oodstone, obsid-” Fareeha cut herself off with a sharp crack of teeth and the resulting silence drew Angela’s attention.  
  
“What was that?”

“I was just listing the different things I would need for your next beads.” Fareeha explained quickly. “Jasper, moonstone, jade and bloodstone.”

Angela pursed her lips in thought. “No, you said obsidian.”

Fareeha shifted uncomfortably, her hands twisting in her lap. “No I didn’t.”

Angela simply sat and pinned Fareeha with a glare. Finally, after a few drawn out minutes of the uncomfortable treatment, Fareeha spoke.

“Obsidian beads were given to those that could master dragon magic.” The words were quietly spoken but seemed to echo around Angela’s ears.

“Magic?” The blonde asked once her shock had calmed. “Actual magic?” She gave her fingers a wiggle as if she were recalling an old wives tale of witches casting spells. “Teach me.”  
  
The sudden demand shocked a laugh from the dragon. “It’s not something you can just learn. It’s…” A sigh and a hand was pushed through dark hair. “It’s pretty much a lost art. The only people that could learn it were the riders, and they were wiped out during the raids.”   


“Riders?”

Fareeha sighed and gave the bead a final look before tucking it into the pocket of her breeches. She turned to sit more comfortably against the wall and gestured for Angela to do the same. Once the blonde was situated, Fareeha began.

She told of a mysterious bond that formed between ancient humans and dragons. How, centuries ago, humans were able to learn to control the innate magics in the world around them, taught by the dragons they had befriended. As time passed, these magic sensitive humans reproduced, growing a small population of riders that, upon coming of age, would bond with a dragon and begin learning to wield the dragon’s magic.

“So do riders have magic?” Angela interrupted, leaning forward eagerly.

Fareeha paused for a moment to process the question. “Not really. That’s why the bond was so important. Dragons are creatures of magic, it’s how we can shapeshift, how we can breathe fire without scorching our bodies, how we fly. Riders were simply sensitive enough to be able to tap into their dragon’s own magic.”

“And the riders all…”  
  
Fareeha nodded slowly, finishing Angela’s morose question. “Were massacred by Talon nearly a generation ago.” Smoke trailed from Fareeha’s mouth as she spoke, her anger becoming palpable.

“I’m so sorry…” Angela said quietly, eyebrows knitting in her sorrow. “Did- Was your rider…?”

Fareeha blinked slowly as she pulled herself from her thoughts before turning her attention back to Angela. “No, I was never bonded. There weren’t many of us that had riders really. Talon had been raiding our covens for years, most of the riders had fled for their lives.” She swallowed thickly. “Those that stayed with their dragons, even my mother’s rider, were killed during Talon’s biggest raid.”

Angela rolled forward on her knees, grabbing up Fareeha’s hands in her own and giving them a comforting squeeze. No words were spoken, none were needed. After a few moments of silence, Fareeha sighed and gave Angela’s fingers a squeeze in return.  
  
“We heard about riders setting up villages, seeking refuge together to help cope with the loss of their bond and to assist anyone else wishing to flee, but they were mostly rumors.” Fareeha seemed to realize she was still holding Angela’s hand and quickly pulled away, disguising the motion with a despondent shrug. “But if the riders were actually settling down, Talon would have wiped them out twenty years ago.”   
  
Fareeha pulled the bead out of her pocket to continue her work, intent on ending the conversation. She was so focused on her project, she never noticed Angela’s blank expression, her mouth slightly agape as she fixated on three simple words.

_Twenty years ago._

 

: :

 

Angela stepped through the main gate, her eyes landing on the stout man standing by a cart of furs for trade. The sunlight caught the silver strands peppered throughout his auburn hair as he laughed with the lady behind the cart. The world seems so normal, so _mundane._ The cheery warm atmosphere, for a moment, seemed detached from the chill that crept down her spine as a potential realisation dangled over her head by a thread. A thin, wavering thread.

For a moment, Angela smiled warmly as she watched Torbjörn interact with his townspeople in such a genuine way. He was truly an inspiration to those that lived in their village. A moment later, however, Angela’s stomach twisted once more.

“Papa.” She called, her voice ringing out over the sounds of a busy town center.

It took a minute for his attention to shift, and to her it really was a minute too long. Torbjörn finished his joke before turning to face the blonde, the mirth on his face falling to a more concerned grimace as he saw the blonde’s expression. “What’s wrong, lass?”

Angela stood silently, her lip caught between her teeth as she struggled to form her thoughts into words. After a minute of silence, Torbjörn sighed and gave the lady at the cart a farewell wave before making his way to Angela. When he neared, he spread his arms with a comforting smile, beckoning the blonde in for a hug.

She didn’t move. She stood silently, worried blue eyes searching his face until finally she spoke. “Can we-” Angela sighed before pointing toward her house. “Can we talk for a moment?”

The lack of response to the hug made his smile falter, a crease forming between his brows before it smoothed over easily. Torbjörn gave her a reassuring smile before turning to Angela’s home. As he began leading them to her door, he struck up a rambling conversation about some tavern gossip he’d heard recently, idle chatter that didn’t really lead anywhere. His eyes kept darting up to Angela, hopeful to see her sad demeanor slip away. The lack of a response made his lips tilt in worry before he smothered it up with yet another joke, but all were in vain. Was he sure she was even listening to him? Her frown remained, even as they stepped into her home.

“-- And it’s not much like her to even attempt to drink someone under the table like that. Bet’cha she’s gonna feel it in the morn’.” The viking shut the door behind Angela, shoulders jerking in a smooth shrug. “But who’m I to say about tavern matters--”

“Who were my birth parents?”

Torbjörn froze in place, comically halfway through his journey to his favorite chair. The cackle of the fireplace pierced the tense silence, and Angela’s fingers tightened their grips on each other, mid-fidget. His eyes wavered doubtfully over her equally terse form. When the lack of a reply came Angela wet her lips nervously, pushing for herself to push on the topic further. Something, anything to fill the emptiness between them.

“Please, papa.”

Torbjörn sat, his hand coming up to smooth his beard as he gathered his thoughts. “What’s brought this on, little dove? You’ve never wanted details.”

Angela paced, wringing her fingers. “I just need to know.” A sigh quietly passed her thinned lips as she straightened with resolution. “I think it’s time I knew.” She chanced a look at the man and at the stricken look on his face, she nearly sobbed, her bravado fading away. “No, don’t-” She whispered through the emotion filling her throat. “You know I love you, papa.” She promised quickly as she wiped the forming tears from her eyes with the back of her hand. “I just think I’m ready to know more. I _want_ to know more. Because they’re a part of me too. And no matter how much I know about my birth parents, their home, their history, you’ll always be my papa.” She reassured solemnly, pausing in her pacing until he nodded with a sad smile.

“I didn’t doubt that.” Silence stretched between them. Angela moved to sit on the edge of her bed. Minutes later, Torbjörn spoke.

“Generations ago, a village formed nearly a day’s journey from here. Their people were medics and would travel to nearby towns supplying them with doctors, supplies, medicines.” He paused in thought, digging his work-worn thumbnail into a notch in the arm of his chair. “They would care for anyone. Friend, foe…” A sigh. “Even dragons.”

He glanced up at Angela, expecting to see shock or anger on her face at the mention of the creatures, but he only saw realization. “And?” She asked quietly.

He heaved another heavy sigh. “And one day a flight of dragons came in need of healing. The medics did their job, fixing them up and sending them on their way.” His nail dug deeper into the wood. “Then the flight came back and burned the village to the ground.

“Their runner was here within hours and the guard arrived there in less than that. By the time we got there, there was nothing more than ash.” He sniffed, eyes staring into the middle distance as he remembered every detail. “Bodies and buildings charred, livestock killed in their pens. There were no survivors.” Sad eyes locked with Angela’s.

“Aside from a small babe buried beneath her mother.”

 

: :

 

Angela was shaking by the time she entered Fareeha’s cave, her chest quivering from contained sobs and her cheeks soaked from shed tears and sweat from her frantic run. The moment Fareeha glanced up and saw the state of the blonde, she was on her feet. The dragon dashed forward, pulling the woman into her arms and held her tight as she looked out into the woods, searching for the threat.

“What happened?” Fareeha asked quietly, forcing her voice to stay calm even as her heart clawed at her throat.

Angela sobbed and gripped Fareeha’s jerkin. Her small fists pushed at Fareeha, even as the dragon tried to calm her with soothing words. The small pushes turned to weak hits and before the strikes could become painful, Fareeha grabbed at Angela’s wrists.

“Hey what’s-” Fareeha began.

“Why?” Angela stood frozen, hands held aloft by warm fingers wrapped around her wrists, her head hanging dejectedly toward the floor.

“Why wha-”  
  
“Why would you destroy a peaceful village?” The words were small and filled with tears, the emotion in Angela’s throat catching some of her question.

Fareeha stilled, her fingers falling away from Angela’s trembling wrists. Dark eyes flitted over Angela’s form as she tried to think back to anything the blonde could be thinking of.

A weak strike to her shoulder and Angela was sobbing once more, fiery blue eyes locked with umber, tears trailing down her cheeks and dripping from frowning lips. “They were peaceful, they only wanted to help people and they were killed!” A hollow hit to Fareeha’s collarbone. “Betrayed because they helped dragons.” Another strike, the blow losing all force as soon as Angela’s closed fist met Fareeha’s chest. “Murdered because they were kind. And you,” Angela curled forward, words breaking as Fareeha’s arms wrapped around her shoulders. “You took them from me.”

Fareeha sank to the ground, guiding Angela along with her. She sat against the wall and pulled the blonde into her lap, wrapping both arms and then her healthy wing around the crying woman. She rocked gently, whispering calming words into pale hair until Angela’s sobs lessened, replaced by the occasional hiccup.

“My coven, _Svernthesek_ ,” Fareeha began slowly, hyper aware of Angela freezing against her chest. “Cherishes life, dragon _or_ human.” Warm fingers gently swept the tears from pink cheeks. “I can’t imagine a time they would ever attack a village, especially a peaceful one.” Angela sniffed. “If a nearby village was attacked, it was Talon.” The last word was spat as if it were a curse.

Angela pulled herself from the warmth of Fareeha’s chest, shaky hand scrubbing away the remnants of her tears. “They were the ones that attacked your coven, right?” Arms tightened around Angela’s waist and the smell of smoke huffed past her bangs.

“They are.” Silence swelled around the pair as Fareeha did her best to calm down. Angela had just snuggled back into the dragon’s warm embrace when Fareeha spoke. “ _Svernthesek_ has always valued life. They celebrate every hatching, are nearly fanatical when it comes to protecting our nesting grounds.” Fingers absently stroked Angela’s hip. “We pride ourselves in protecting covens as far as the northern sky tribes. Even humans,” Fareeha mused. “We were some of the last to have riders.

“Talon sees anyone that isn’t a Talon dragon as a threat. They thrive in battle and detested us for our views on humanity.”

“So my family…” Angela spoke softly. “Papa said they were raided by the same dragons they had healed.”  
  
Fareeha curled a finger beneath Angela’s chin, tipping her face so they could meet eye to eye. “If your parents’ village was destroyed by dragons, I would say it was Talon.” Dark eyes dropped, sadness hidden behind Fareeha’s lids. “Probably in retaliation for helping us.”

Angela stiffened once more, but before she could speak, Fareeha had locked eyes with her, regret and fury burning a fiery gold. “I swear to you, as soon as I’m able, as soon as I can fly, I’ll rally the coven and-”  
  
Pale fingers tightened into fists against Fareeha’s chest. “No, I couldn’t ask that of you, it wasn’t your fault. I could never ask you to put yourself in danger like that, I…” Angela’s words trailed off as her confidence began to wane. She worried her lip between her teeth.

“You…?” Fareeha prompted, the word merely a breath between them.

“I,” Angela began again, blue eyes flicking up to Fareeha’s, locking with worried gold briefly before skittering to the side.

Fareeha sat quietly, intent to let Angela speak at her own pace. She realized belatedly that her hand was still cupping the blonde’s chin. With a small apology, Fareeha began to tug her hand away, but the small bit of movement seemed to bring Angela back to the moment.

In a flash, Angela’s hand was against Fareeha’s, pressing the woman’s warm fingers into a pink cheek. “I couldn’t live with myself if you were hurt again because of me.” In the next breath, Angela was leaning forward, lips meeting the corner of Fareeha’s slack mouth, hoping the action would speak the words that she could not.


	6. Chapter Five

Angela sat in the back of the town hall, a weathered tome she had borrowed from her father’s home hidden beneath the table. She scribbled down interesting points from the book on a bit of parchment, eyes darting around the room to check for anyone that seemed suspicious of her actions. 

She had a reputation for taking notes of town meetings, so her current behavior shouldn’t gain too much attention, but she was paranoid nonetheless. She glanced up at her father as he stood at the head of the room, droning on about food storage, incoming metals from the mountain villages, and projected exports.

She bit back a bored groan before returning her attention to the book on her thigh. The aged pages didn’t hold much in the way of new information. Most of the scrawlings were recounts of dragon attacks on the village and tallies of those injured or recognized for bravery. Every few pages there was a note scribbled into the corner: a note about new uses for herbs, tips on splinting. Angela was just about to close the book with an irritated huff when a spikey scrawled ‘rider’ caught her eye.

_ Last rider killed in raid.  _ The dire sentence was followed by the date of the raid and the village that had been sacked.  _ Nearly two generations before I was even born. _ She realized, a slight pout on her lips.  _ That means either this text or Fareeha is wro- _

“-gela?” The raised tone broke through her thoughts and as Angela looked up, she realized that every eye in the town hall was on her.

“I’m sorry,” She began with a blush, turning to tuck the book further beneath the table. “I was lost in my note-taking, what did you say?”

“Moira just finished giving us an overview of her newest project and when asked about the current stock levels, she directed the question to you.” Torbjorn explained, eyes squinting over his bushy beard as if trying to ascertain why his daughter was so absent.

“Oh, well,” Angela began, eyes darting to her mentor before dropping to the paper before her, searching her scribbles as if they held the answers she was looking for. She took the moment to calm her thoughts before responding. “Herbs are well stocked but we could always use more linens.” At that, she gave a look to their local seamstress, who nodded. “And our powdered stones are quite low, so perhaps send word to the mountain villages to keep an eye out for them. Mostly quartz.”

From the corner of her eye she saw Moira shift on her bench as she tried to hide a scoff. Angela turned her attention fully to her mentor just as she spoke. “Yes, as I said earlier, my latest theory revolves around crushing precious stones and using them… offensively.”

The vague words dragged Angela’s stomach to her feet. Moira was a great medical mind, performing near miracles on those that found their way into the clinic, but she was also cruel in her studies. If there was a new discovery to be made, she didn’t pause to think of the costs. Anything  _ offensive _ the woman was concocting was sure to be frightening.

As if he were on the same train of thought and eager to ease the tension, Torbjorn spoke. “Right then, we’ll send word with the request for an iron trade. Markus,” He began. “How are the hunts?”

As the young man began to list off new found trails, hunters and a change to their scent bait, Angela slipped back into her thoughts. 

Before her sat a well respected member of the village, one she had been promised to since her coming of age. He was strong, able to protect and provide for her and any children they were to have, and yet…

Yet it all seemed to pale in comparison to the dragon that was healing in a cave on the village outskirts. The thought of marrying Markus no longer held the appeal it once did. Being a mother and homemaker no longer sat well with her and didn’t align with her dreams of learning dragon healing.

But what if it was merely the novelty of having a dragon at her side that was so appealing? Would that wear off once the curiosity had dwindled?

Angela bit her lip, worrying the flesh between her teeth as she debated. The scuffing of wooden benches against the floor as the meeting adjourned startled her and she stood mechanically along with the others, clutching her book against her side as she followed the crowd.

Regardless of where she stood with Markus and Fareeha, one thing was still certain: Fareeha’s health was the current priority.

 

: :

 

“What’cha readin’?” 

The sudden and chipper voice nearly made Angela fall from the seat at her kitchen table.

“Must be something very interesting to keep you distracted during one of our riveting town halls.” Brigitte said as she nearly sauntered into Angela’s home. She ignored the blushing blonde in favor of flipping up the cover of the book. “Why on Earth are you reading about ancient raids?”

“Just studying their triage methods.” Angela answered, the excuse one well thought out and practiced. “It’s interesting and enlightening to see how the previous generations treated injuries before the discoveries we’ve made.”

“Uh huh.” Brigitte intoned, clearly not convinced. Narrowed eyes scrutinized Angela's features as she mentally flipped through the book Angela was studying. “So that’s why you chose the one book from the library that mentions magic? Are Papa’s stories not enough fantasy for you?”

“Surely it’s not the  _ only _ book.” Angela groused quietly, pulling the book back toward her protectively.

“The only one I’ve found. In  _ this _ village at least.” She turned and hopped up to sit on the table, fingers rifling through the pages before finding what she was looking for. She nudged Angela’s hands away from the book so she could turn it slightly toward her, gesturing at the text. “There’s not much, but it does mention magic being used. I’ve seen better books on it when I’m running trades.”

Blue eyes skimmed over the offered text and as Brigitte had said, there wasn’t much. Angela glanced up at the girl who was now halfway through an apple from her fruit bowl. “And this is the only one we have?”

“Like I said,” Brigitte said once she’d swallowed her snack. “It’s the only one I’ve found in papa's collection. I’m sure I haven’t read them all, but you know me, I’ve read a good portion.”

Angela nodded, her eyes dropping back to the page in disappointment. If there was anyone in the village that knew their tomes, it was her sister. The young woman was determined to learn all she could to better step into her father’s role as leader. Not only would the knowledge be beneficial for the future of the village, but Brigitte, knowing all that she could, would better silence the elders that felt she couldn’t lead without a proper man at her side.

“But,” Brigitte said slowly, dragging the word into two syllables. “I could be tempted to help you.” She nearly laughed at the hungry look Angela pinned her with. “If you tell me why you’re so interested in magic all of a sudden.”   
  
“The same reason really, better healing methods for our fighters. Even if we can’t practice the actual magic, surely there are poultices and salves that would be useful.”

Brigitte sat for a moment longer, scrutinizing Angela’s face for any ticks that would betray her. “Give me the day, I’ll be back tonight.” And with that, Brigitte was out the front door with a wave, the core of her apple left behind.

 

: :

 

Angela sat at her table, straddling the bench seat with her mortar clenched between her thighs as she sat to work crushing up the last few chunks of rose quartz they had on hand. The village clinic had been steadily working its way through their crystal storage and, after the town hall meeting, Angela realized Moira was to blame.

_ What would she be working on that would use so much?  _ Her brow furrowed in thought. Her mentor had always been more comfortable with stone and crystal healing than the herbs and natural remedies that Angela put faith in.  _ If anything,  _ Angela realized,  _ it’s  _ Moira _ who’s practicing magic. _

Angela scoffed and gave the crushed stone a few more passes before carefully transferring the fine powder into a phial. As she stoppered up the glass, her thoughts drifted to another use for precious stones. Pale fingers moved up to stroke the wooden bead reverently. It wasn’t as neatly threaded as it was when it was freshly braided in by the dragon, but it was still proudly worn. The townspeople had questioned her at first, but they eventually believed her repeated explanation of trying out a new trend and let the subject drop.

Angela found herself clutching the bead during times of stress or worry, rolling the polished wood between her fingertips. Any time the weighted braid tapped her cheek, she would smile, reminded of the warm hands of the dragon in the cave.

Her stomach dropped and her fingers moved from the bead to softly touch her lips as she slouched against the table.  _ Why did I… _

She was promised to Markus and yet she was falling for someone else. Not just anyone else, but a dragon? The sworn enemy of her townspeople, one of the very beasts that ravaged the countryside for generations.

_ But Fareeha is far from a beast, _ she reasoned before her mind began replaying the memories of dragon raids, the aftermath and countless hours of healing the near-dead.  _ But she’s capable… _

Yet, regardless of Fareeha’s ability to reave and pillage, Angela was still betrothed. It was pointless to entertain thoughts of anyone else. Her path was written in stone, decided years before she had even come of age. 

There was only one way to go from here and that was to heal the dragon and send her on her way. To ignore the feeling of protection, comfort and contentedness that welled within her at the mere thought of Fareeha. To do her duty to her village and her people.

Shaking fingers pressed against quivering lips just in time to muffle a sob.

 

: :

 

The moment Angela stepped into the cave, both women began speaking, Fareeha eagerly and Angela intent on setting her newfound boundaries. After muttered apologies, Angela smiled and motioned for Fareeha to speak first.

“I finished it.” The dragon said without preamble, nearly skipping over to the blonde still stood at the mouth of the cave. Held between them was a shiny metal bead. Fareeha beamed, her smile full of pride as she offered the bead to Angela with a slight bow of her head. “For your skill in surgery.” 

Shyly, Angela turned her head slightly to offer her braid. “I could never get it just right after washing. If you don’t mind…”

Fareeha nodded, hands already moving to Angela’s hair. She deftly pulled the wooden bead free before carding her fingers through the braid to smooth the strands. In a practiced motion, she quickly braided a portion, slipped the wooden bead back on and braided a bit more before following with the newly forged metal band, securing it with the wooden plug. As she stepped back to admire her work, fingertip brushing the engraved metal, Angela spoke.

“How do they look? I’m sure much better than my terrible attempts.” 

A warm palm cupped her jaw. “Stunning.” Though gold eyes were locked with blue and not on the beads.

Angela blushed, turning away to hide the reaction with a mumbled excuse of checking her wounds. As she knelt at her bag, she forced down the desire to rush back to her dragon.  _ Her  _ dragon? No, she had made her decision. The village, her word and her father’s honor came first. Resolute, she dug through her satchel for a jar of cream and a clean linen, speaking a bit coldly over her shoulder. “Have a seat, it’s been a while since they’ve had a proper clean.”

Obliging, Fareeha sat and waited for Angela to kneel next to her, dark fingers picking at the tie to her tunic. “Speaking of your beads, I won’t be able to make your jasper bead until I can fly up north. Jasper is for your skill in medicines.” She shrugged out of the garment to give the medic access to her back, fiddling with the tie as she waited on Angela. 

The medic sat behind the dragon and gave a small hum of acceptance, running cool fingers over scabbed and scarred skin. She rubbed the salve into the raised scars left behind by the netting and her blade. Most of the injuries had healed without permanent reminders and though her ointment was built to help skin heal without scarring, one cut left behind by the deepest hook was still a jagged ridge of scab. Frowning at Fareeha’s flank, Angela smeared the cream along the wound, angry at herself for damaging the smooth expanse of bronze skin. 

“Sadly, I don’t think even my salve can prevent this one from scarring.” Angela said softly, an unspoken apology woven into the tone of her voice as she cleaned up the skin around the wound.

Fareeha shrugged with the shoulder furthest from Angela’s fingertips. “It won’t be my first scar and won’t be my last. They are a sign of character, after all.” Angela’s hands move to unwrap her wing. As soon as the splint was pulled free, Fareeha leaned to the side to rut the tip of her wing into the side of the cave, an expression of joy and relief clear on her face.   
  
Angela chuckled. “Had an itch?”

“Worse than the time some of the younglings swarmed me with  _ kluchuduunskjall.” _

The rough and guttural words that seemed to stay in Fareeha’s throat startled Angela. “I’m sorry, what?” 

“Oh, it’s…” Gold eyes flicked to the ceiling as she tried to translate. “I suppose the closest words you would have are ‘poison joke leaf’? It’s ancient draconic, so I can’t offer you something more direct.”

Angela sat back and stretched out her legs, allowing Fareeha a moment to stretch her injured wing before she’d have to splint it once more. “And what, pray tell, is,” She paused as if debating on pronouncing the growled word herself. “Poison joke leaf?”

“Do humans have a plant that makes them react strangely?”   
  
Angela thought for just a moment. “We have poison ivy. Some of us break out in a rash, others get a terrible itch along with it.”   
  
Fareeha hummed. “Then it’s poison ivy for dragons. Only instead of rashes, we get strange changes.” Blue eyes stared at her questioningly as Angela tried to hold back a chuckle. “It differs from dragon to dragon, some of us change colors, some change voices, all while itching until we’re dunked in an herbal bath.”   
  
“And  _ children _ attacked you with this plant?” The medic asked, pinning the dragon with a side eyed glance. She bit her lip to hold in the giggle that tried to break free at the thought of a malfunctioning Fareeha.   
  
“Oh yes, it was a hard fought battle.” Fareeha nodded sagely and Angela finally laughed. The dragon smiled to herself, proud to have finally broken the blonde from her strange mood.

“And what are you? Color or voice?”

Fareeha puffed up proudly, spreading her wings valorously. “I became the most vibrant purple the eye had ever seen.”

 

: :

 

A knock at her door woke Angela from her doze. She’d been trying to catch small cat naps between her trips to the cave and making needed appearances throughout the village to keep suspicions down. Though the reminder that Fareeha would be leaving eventually saddened her, the dragon was healed enough to feed herself and didn’t need the constant caretaking as she did in the beginning. That alone allowed Angela more time to mingle in town.

Another knock and Angela sighed, standing from her cot with a stretch. She cracked the door open and smiled, swinging it fully open to allow Brigitte inside.

The redhead was laden with thick tomes, though the girl seemed to not mind the added weight. She sat the books down on Angela’s table and the various phials and bowls clattered from the thud. 

“Sorry it took me a bit longer that I’d thought.” Brigitte apologized as she flexed her fingers, the only outward sign that she had been burdened by the heavy books. “I had to dig through the crates from the last caravan. I knew I’d seen some before heading back here, I just didn’t know where.”   
  
Angela nodded at her sister’s words but her gaze was locked on the tomes stacked on her table. “Thank you, I should have asked you sooner, I just didn’t think.”   
  
Brigitte waved her off with a smile. “Don’t worry about it. Between me running shipment caravans and your training, which is taking up way too much of your time by the way, it’s hard to find a spare moment.”

Blue eyes softened with guilt as Angela looked back at the girl. “I know, I’m sorry. Like I told Genji, it should be easing up some time soon.”

“Right, once Moira finishes her project she’ll be able to help out more, yeah?” 

“Probably.” Angela said slowly, still unsure of what her mentor’s project entailed. 

Silence fell between the two until finally Brigitte spoke. “Well, I’ll leave you with your reading. Give me a shout when you want to meet up for dinner, okay? I’ll even cook.”   
  
Angela scoffed, a grin on her face as she sat, slowly opening the cover of the top book reverently. “You mean you’ll have mam cook and then claim it as your own.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

 

: :

 

Night had passed and the morning birds had begun their song by the time Angela narrowed down her search through the tomes. Only one remained after she discarded more town logs, shipping manifests and a few handwritten journals. Those she sat aside for later reading when it actually  _ was  _ her goal to learn the old ways of healing as she’d told Brigitte.

Laying spread before her was the oldest tome in the stack. Yellow pages and dark brown ink held tales of dragons, their riders and the magic between them written in the common tongue as well as a sharp and jagged language. This, she thought, must be the ancient draconic language Fareeha spoke of. 

Illustrated in faded reds and greens were pictures of leather clad warriors atop dragons, mouths open in feral screams as their mounts breathed fire. Pale fingers brushed over an inked rider and his dragon as she imagined herself riding into battle. With a sigh, she turned the page. Fareeha would be healed soon and would leave for her coven. Any thoughts of being a rider actually on dragonback was fantasy. The healing however…

She flipped through a few more pages before a diagram caught her eye. It highlighted certain parts of the body, areas she knew aligned with pressure points she was taught to manipulate to aide in circulation. She read through the accompanying text that spoke of flowing energy and harnessing it, bringing it forward and stimulating growth.

Now  _ this _ she could use.

 

: :

 

“Fareeha, no!” Angela snapped her fingers and pointed to the cave floor as if she were reprimanding a puppy. “Put that down.”

The dragon stood hunched against the cave wall, glancing over her shoulder at Angela as if she were a child caught stealing desserts. Her wrappings and splint were clutched against her chest and smoke swirled from her mouth as if she were planning on scorching the entire bundle. She shifted her hoard behind her back as she turned, facing Angela with a pleading expression. “All it does is itch and chafe.” She all but whined. 

The medic sighed and stepped forward, holding out her hand expectantly. When Fareeha made no move to hand over the wrappings, Angela gave her hand a shake. “You’ve nearly made it two moons, a bit more won’t hurt you.”

“I’ll be careful.” Fareeha bargained.

Angela wiggled her fingers enticingly. “You say that but you’ll end up doing the opposite. Just a bit longer and you can go without it, but if you stress your wing too much right now, you’ll be starting over in the healing process.”   
  
Fareeha wilted with a grumble, handing over her splint with a whined “Fine.”

Angela chewed the inside of her cheek as she debated, blue eyes scanning the dragon before her. “Though,” She began, smiling when Fareeha perked up, hopeful for a reconsideration. “I suppose a bit of supervised time out of the splint will not hurt too much.”

Fareeha nearly yipped in happiness as she darted forward and hugged Angela, a stream of ‘thank you’s pouring from her mouth as she rocked the medic on the spot. 

The blonde laughed. “You’re welcome. Go enjoy yourself but stay on the ground!” She shouted the last few words after the dragon who had already fled the cave. By the time Angela followed her out, Fareeha had made herself comfortable on the grass. Her arms, wings and legs spread akimbo, golden eyes staring into the bright blue sky. The dappled sunlight that made its way through the trees cast shadows over glittery scales and bronze skin. Angela took a moment to remember how to breathe and remind herself of her resolution to distance herself from the dragon.

A hand patting the soft grass at the dragon’s side brought Angela back to the moment. A gentle breeze picked up Fareeha’s hair and a few fallen leaves and the dragon heaved a sigh of relief, her eyes falling shut as she became lost in thought. “I can’t imagine living an entire life without being in the sky.” Fareeha said quietly, fingers and wings twitching as if she was going to claw her way into the sky if need be. “Being on the ground, just this little bit… It’s been suffocating.”

Angela sat down at her side, legs folded beneath her as she too looked to the sky. She did her best to imagine being up there, able to see all the way to the northern mountains, wind whipping through her hair. “Well,” she said with a slight frown. “For me it’s hard to imagine living a life  _ not _ being on the ground.”

Fareeha turned her head to the side, pinning Angela with a side-eyed glance. “When my wing heals, I’m taking you for a flight.” The dragon nodded to herself before turning her face back up toward the sky. “The view is amazing, but the feeling of freedom… it's…”

For a moment, Angela kept her eyes on the dragon. Her expression was relaxed and a small smile played on her lips. Angela shifted and hugged her knees to her chest, glancing up to the sky as well. The thought of being on dragonback wormed its way back into her mind. She debated between the desire to be up there, to feel the sun on her face without the barricade of trees or clouds, a beast beneath her larger than any horse she’d ever ridden, and her need to keep in place the boundaries she needed to set. 

She could rationalize the offer, of course. It was payment for her healing services, a small taste of flight as thanks for her work. But the idea of becoming addicted to being up there, to being with Fareeha, it was a frightening thought. 

She realized belatedly that the dragon was gazing at her with one eye, the other closed against the sun. Angela smiled and sighed. “Once you heal, perhaps I’ll take you up on that offer.” After all, it would be rude to refuse payment.

“Not too long of a wait then,” Fareeha mused, raising a hand to flick Angela’s braid. “With such an experienced medic at my side.”

Angela scoffed and stretched her legs out, leaning back on her palms. Silence draped over them as they sat in the sun.

After a few moments, Fareeha spoke. “Do you have bloodstone?”

It took a few breaths for Angela to process the random question. “What?” 

“I was thinking about your beads.” Fareeha explained. “I can’t get jasper until I can fly, but you might have access to bloodstone.”

Angela thought for a moment. “We might.” She bit her lip. “Moira has been running through our stone storage lately though, but it’s possible that there’s some left.”

Fareeha tensed. “Moira?”

“My mentor. She prefers using precious stones in her treatments.”

“And she has bloodstone?” The question was low, concerned.

Oblivious to Fareeha’s reaction, Angela continued. “It’s a major healing stone, so most likely. I can check when I go home.”

Fareeha grumbled to herself for a moment before speaking. “I’ll go with you.”   
  
Angela nearly choked on her breath when she heard Fareeha’s near demand. “What? No, that’s not possible.”   
  
“I could hide.”   
  
Angela scoffed out a laugh. “What, dress you up like a pregnant vagrant and smuggle you in?”   
  
“Look, I’ve only ever seen human villages from the sky, I’d like to see them close up.” The dragon changed her tactic. “You could totally sneak me in.”   
  
Angela waved her off. “I’m not sneaking you in.”


	7. Artwork

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter will host all of the artwork for this fic. All artwork is done by CalebCrow. Please support her through her Tumblr or Twitter, both found at the end of this work.

Fareeha

 

A trying time - Chapter One

 

Finally, a smile. - Chapter Two  
  


Angela's first bead - Chapter Three

**Author's Note:**

> This is the result of a "what if" scenario and being way too hyper way too late. Enjoy the fruits of our hyper writing sessions and brainstorming.
> 
> The majority of the plot and any accompanying artwork is the creation of CalebCrow while Lunari took up fleshing out ideas and further world building.
> 
> : :
> 
> As always, thank you so much for reading! Comments are always welcome and will usually be replied to within the day, so if you have any questions or concerns, drop us a line!
> 
> If you would rather chat one on one, we have a few venues for that:
> 
> Tumblr: lunari-writes.tumblr.com : caleb-crow.tumblr.com  
> Twitter: @lunari_writes : @CalebThaliaCrow


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